


Three Thousand Days

by snow-elf (wintergalaxy)



Series: Femslash February 2019 [3]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Callum and Rayla being snarky because I can, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2019, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, My First Work in This Fandom, Past Tense, The Queens of Duren Live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-01 07:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergalaxy/pseuds/snow-elf
Summary: The Queens of Duren didn’t die after all. Callum and Rayla save them. (Written for Femslash February Day 21: Wings)





	Three Thousand Days

**Author's Note:**

> I am nowhere near as active in the fandom as some people are, so forgive me if I’ve missed some headcanons/technicalities/theories here. Anyway, I love the Queens of Duren and their badass little daughter and wanted to write a bit for them!
> 
> The prompt is a bit late but I published it when I had time.

The morning of that fateful day dawned bright and brisk. Neha watched listlessly from the corner of her cell as the sun shone through the iron bars in growing beams of blinding gold, dust particles dancing all through it. Songbirds twittered cheerfully as they flew back and forth before the window, glowing with tantalizingly close magic. In the distance, the town came to life in the voices of playing children, bustling merchants, and chattering livestock.

Neha shook her head and returned her gaze to the cold, lumpy porridge the guards had delivered to her cell several minutes earlier. Even if she must remind herself every day for the rest of her life, she would; she knew she could not afford to be lost in the shining image presented by the few slivers of the outside world that she could see. It was magic, not reality. Moreover, it did not do to dwell on the impossible when she should focus on the tangible.

Thus, she focused on her food, and as always, with the intent of strategy.

Today’s brand of sludge appeared to be a slightly browner shade than the usual off-white, but no more appetizing. Perhaps she would go on a hunger strike again. Such an endeavor more reckless than anything else she had attempted over the last nine years, and she badly needed to try something today, even if it ultimately proved futile. For today was day three thousand, and she could not let that pass without putting up some sort of resistance.

Three thousand days. Three thousand days since she had been imprisoned in Xadia by some nameless elven captor, three thousand days since she had seen her beloved daughter, three thousand days since she had felt her wife’s touch—or the touch of anyone who was not attempting to torture her, for that matter.

She glanced into the cell directly across from her. Cloaked in the shadows, Annika slept curled against the left wall, just beyond arm’s reach. Her face was gaunt and sallow, a shadow of what it had once been. Yet she still looked as beautiful as the day Neha first met her. 

Their daughter had been Annika’s spitting image.

Neha looked away, trying to fight the tears coming to her eyes. She would not cry during broad daylight when any of the guards could see. Tears were reserved for the dark of night, in time with silent but body-shaking sobs.

It was harder to control than usual. She blamed the significance of today.

Aanya would be eleven now. Old enough to make her own political choices, if she chose to forgo her regent.

Neha’s hand clenched into a fist at her side. It did not matter that Neha’s own youth and happiness had been stolen from her. She knew Annika felt the same. After all, such was the price of being a leader—one’s own wants and desires did not matter, as long as the kingdom was safe. And in the end, as they saved Duren when they slayed the Magma Titan, everything that happened since was worth it.

Or at least, it would have been worth it if not for Aanya. She was the flaw in their martyrdom.

Everything had been taken from Aanya, and more. She grew up without her mothers, but surely bore both Annika’s fair outlook on everything and Neha’s iron will. That alone should give her the keys to survival. But Neha also knew the intricacies of court; she knew that despite her highest hopes, Aanya could very well be a pawn for someone like the foolish Katolian whose crusade resulted in their imprisonment in the first place, Lord Viren.

Neha simply could not believe it had been so long, yet the marks carved into the wall were proof.

Three thousand days.

~~~

Later that evening when Neha saw the Dragon Prince, she initially attributed it to yet another ordinary dragon flying around Xadia. This was hardly an uncommon occurrence, especially where they were imprisoned: near the mountains in whose caverns the beasts were known to make their homes. 

Long ago had her days of wonderment at such creatures passed. Now, each one she saw, from mighty dragon to insignificant slug, it merely served as a further reminder that she was powerless. Unflinchingly human in an entirely non-human world. Trapped, with no possibility of escape or even reprieve.

Then she squinted and noticed that the creature was quite small. Juvenile. Its flight was almost spastic in nature, its wings unsteady and hesitant.

Even still, Neha did not think this was unusual, either. It was entirely possible a fledgling dragon learned to fly earlier than the rest and suddenly found itself far away from the nest, coincidentally near their prison at the top of the cliff which overlooked the nearby town.

Only when she heard the voices did she consider it might be something more.

The first voice was a boy’s: adolescent, and at the moment, panicked.

“Zym! Get back here!” he was calling. His silhouette took off in pursuit of the young dragon.

“Be quiet, Callum!” This one belonged to a girl, also adolescent. Her accent was thick—decidedly regional elven. “Wha’ d’ya think’s going t’ happen if someone notices your very, very human ears and face?”

“They won’t notice, because no one’s _here!_ ”

“Is that right?” The girl snapped. She pointed at the prison building. 

As Callum’s gaze snapped over to follow where she was indicating, Neha shrank back into the dark corners of her cell to avoid them seeing her. She was still quietly evaluating the situation, not ready to expose her presence yet.

“Oh,” said Callum. “Wait—is that a prison?”

The girl sounded increasingly irritated. “Looks like it. So wha’ if it is? We need to get Zym back to his mum before the war starts!”

“Yes, that’s true, but think about it! Soren and Claudia are still on our trail. We could, I dunno...break them out or something. Give our old friends some distractions to deal with while we finish the mission.”

A few feet away, Neha saw Annika’s features light up, even in the growing darkness. “Neha, if they do that, we’re finally saved!” she breathed.

“Annie.” Neha’s voice was low and stern. “Be cautious. It could be a trap. A new way to try and break us, since nothing else has worked.”

Annika frowned, looking dubious. “But would they use children to do it? Much less an elf child?”

“Yes, they would use children. They would use anything. Humans and elves are hardly different in this way. Both willing to do the abhorrent to extract the desired information or reaction.”

Annika sighed. “You are right. But I still hope, my love.”

“As do I.” Neha smiled faintly at her. She turned her focus back to the bickering children.

“...probably end very badly,” the girl was saying. “We don’t know who’s in there, or why. They could hurt us, or hurt other people. And I’m not going to break anyone out like that.”

“Okay, forget the full escape. But think about allies! We could find some people in there willing to help us, Rayla.”

They continued arguing for several minutes, but Neha concluded based on what happened next that the boy must have won this argument. A few minutes and several grunts from the guards later, and the pair had cautiously entered Neha and Annika’s cell aisle. The girl was sweating and sporting a quickly growing black eye, while the boy’s eyes were keenly peeled.

When Neha saw Callum’s face up close, there was no denying the resemblance. This was Sarai’s Callum standing before her. And even though he was only five the last time she saw him, his wide eyes showed he clearly recognized her.

“Queen Neha?” He blinked, hard. “Is that you?”

The Moonshadow Elf girl stood behind him, wrinkling her nose.

“Do prisoners always _smell_ this bad?”

“Rayla! These are the Queens of Duren!”

“So _wha’?”_ It’s tha’ truth!”

Callum shook his head at her and got to work freeing the shackled queens.

~~~

The first kiss in nine years is nothing short of magical.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things:  
> -I know this drabble is a bit less romantic-centric than perhaps it should be, but I wanted to focus a bit more on the conditions and reference Aanya.  
> -It’s super short and I skated over all the details that probably could’ve made for a much longer fic. I just wanted to finish the prompt and show the Queens of Duren some love rather than be more detailed. If there’s a demand for it I will probably do a longer version though!
> 
> Kudos, comments, and feedback are always appreciated!


End file.
